The Guardian
by MadWithMusic
Summary: AU Destiel After running late for class after gym one day, Dean Winchester finds that a guardian angel walks among the kids at school, and that guardian angel is there just for him. Nor Dean or Castiel know why he needs protection, but the danger is closer to home than either of them would want.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Supernatural not mine

Rated **T** for Language

Dean Winchester ran across the floor of the gym, his tennis shoes squeaking as they slid across the polished wood floor. He firmly gripped the red ball and hurled it as hard as he could. Everyone stood still as the boy on the other side of the room fell and hit the floor. The gym class ran over and circled him, lying on the ground.

"Move aside everyone. Remain calm." The gym teacher said, blowing his whistle loudly until everyone was away from the boy on the floor.

Coach Reynolds knelt by the boys face. He knelt his face by the boy's mouth, but didn't feel him breathe. Coach Reynolds put his fingers on the boy's neck but didn't feel a pulse. Panicked, he put a hand behind the boy's head, but quickly drew it back when he felt the warm, sticky, and all too familiar feel of blood. The coach placed his hand behind the boy's head and moved it onto a nearby sweat towel. Coach Reynolds began the process of CPR, doubtful it would work.

He drummed his hands against the boy's heart, counting, "_One…Two…Three…Four…Five…_" and then breathing into the boy's mouth. After a few moments, the boy started coughing and wheezed for air. Everyone in the room started clapping as he propped himself up on his hands. The boy collapsed over back onto the sweat towel again. Coach Reynolds checked for a pulse again.

"He's fine. Just unconscious. He probably just has a minor concussion." The coach assured the class. "And Winchester, lighted up on that throw next time!"

Dean took a few steps back, trying hard not to get pegged as, 'That kid who almost killed that other kid.' Most of the kids in the class didn't look at Dean, and were more concerned about the boy unconscious on the floor. The coach and some boys hoisted the boy on the floor to the bleachers, gently laying him down on the bottom row. Coach Reynolds grabbed a bucket of cleaning solution and poured it over the blood on the floor, along with some powdered bleach solution from the nearby janitor's closet.

"Play ball!" He yelled as he wiped the last of the solvent off the floor.

The teenagers resumed playing their game of dodge ball, still as intense as before. The coach leaned over the kid lying on the bleachers and put his hand in his pocket, searching for a wallet to see if he could get the kid's name. The kid had no wallet, school ID, or any form of identification on him, but Coach Reynolds knew he was a student there. He'd been in gym for 3 semesters before this one and had seen him leaving normal classes during school hours.

"Does anyone in here know this young man's name?" The coach announced to the class. The skid of sneakers stopped and the gym was quiet except for a couple balls still bouncing down the court.

Kids shook their heads and looked confused at each other, waiting for someone to claim they knew him, but the only response the coach got from the crowd was someone saying, "I see him in some of my classes, but I don't think anyone really talks to him." The coach sighed and blew his whistle. The game resumed but the coach still stared intently at the unconscious boy on the bench.

After a few minutes, the boy came to. He looked puzzled at his surroundings. His vision was spinning and blurred, but at least he was conscious again. He could make out the figure of Coach Reynolds. The boy tried to talk, but all that came out was a slurred mumble. The boy grabbed a nearby water bottle, and squeezed it on his face, making him more alert. He sat up and brushed the hair out of his eyes. Coach Reynolds looked in awe at the quick recovery the boy had made.

"Do I have something on my face?" The boy asked.

"No, it's just you bled a lot. How are you not even light headed at least?" Coach Reynolds asked.

"It takes a lot more than a dodge ball to actually hurt me."

The coach looked at the boy before sighing and giving in. "Alright then. What's your name, son?"

The boy looked at the coach. "I've acknowledged how responsible you are about your students."

"Don't get smart with me, boy. Just tell me your name." The coach said crossing his arms.

"Castiel. My name's Castiel." And with that, Castiel stood up and walked back onto the court.

"You can't just walk back into there. Your head's badly injured!" The coach protested.

"I'll be fine. Promise." Castiel assured with a straight tone, a hint of annoyance to his voice.

After Gym had finished, the boys and girls divided into two groups, going to their different lockers. The girls locker was noisy and messy like usual. The floor was scattered with undergarments and stray items. Joanna gently pulled her band from her hair, her blonde locks falling perfectly on her shoulders.

"Did you hear that it was Dean who threw the ball who hit that kid? I know he didn't mean it, but it was just so unnerving." Lisa said with her back turned to Joanna as she rummaged through her locker.

"Unnerving, but incredibly hot." Joanna said, scoffing at Lisa's comment.

"I swear, Joanna. You think like such a guy sometimes. Is that all you think about is sex?" Lisa asked laughing.

Joanna stepped out of her gym short and started to slide into her skinny jeans. "You're not one to talk, Lisa. Don't forget about Gabriel."

"I was drugged." Lisa defended, sliding a fitted tee over her tank top.

"Keep telling yourself that." Joanna sneered.

"I swear. Sometimes I don't get how we're even friends." Lisa said laughing.

Dean walked into the shower room, jumping to touch the ceiling. He walked into the room, reaching for his towel, but then realizing he left his backpack with his towel in it at the cafeteria. He cursed himself as he walked across the school shirtless, running to the cafeteria. He would have to take the moldy shower if he didn't get back soon. He spied the black bag on the wall of the cafeteria and ran to grab it. He picked it up and slung one strap over his shoulder, bolting back down to gym. Dean bolted into the shower room and undressed, hanging his towel on the hook by the showers.

After a few minutes of rinsing his hair, he realized how quiet the room had gotten. Dean shrugged it off, not really caring if he was late to class. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped the white towel around his waist. He bent over and looked at the mirror, running his fingers through his hair, slightly spiking it up. With the towel still around his waist, Dean casually walked into the connected locker room. He started turning the combination lock on his locker when something moved out of the corner of his eye. He noticed a pair of black sneakers placed side by side on the floor by a bench.

Dean threw on his shirt and edged the corner. He recognized the shoes from earlier. "Castiel? That's your name right? It's me, Dean. Are you all right? I felt kind of bad for almost killing you and all."

Dean heard a small bang from the next row of lockers. "You alright there?" Dean called.

"I'm fine Dean. You should get going to your next class." Castiel said, trying to persuade Dean away from the lockers.

"So should you." Dean said.

"Well I'm fine, so you should go. I'm just finishing getting dressed." Castiel called.

"Well. You might need _this_." Dean said over the lockers.

"What is it?" Castiel asked.

"It's your shirt. I found it by your shoes." Dean replied.

"Oh thanks. If you could, could you throw it over the lockers?" Castiel requested.

"I don't see why I couldn't just hand it to you in person. Besides, I want to apologize properly." Dean argued.

"I already forgave you. You didn't mean to hit me that hard. Besides, God wouldn't want me to hold grudges, not like I would anyways."

"You're just ashamed of your body because it's not as fit, toned, and primed as mine, right?" Dean said teasingly.

"I guess you could say that's it…" Castiel called from his side of the locker.

"Well I'm not gay, and I'm not going to look anyways, so I am going to come around the corner and hand it to you." Dean protested.

Castiel was at the last row of lockers by now and had no way to escape. "Dean, no!" he called.

Dean rounded the corner with a pair of black sneakers in one hand and an unbuttoned shirt hanging off the other. Dean looked at the shirtless boy, backed into a dark corner, barely visible without a light.

"It can't be that bad dude." Dean assured. "Unless you have a third nipple. Please don't have a third nipple."

Dean edged towards the light switch, and heard Castiel breathe in sharply.

"You're going to regret this, Dean." Castiel said sympathetically.

Dean edged up the light switch with his elbow and watched as the lights down the row of lockers turned on, one by one. As the last light turned on, Dean dropped the contents he was holding in his hands and gawked. Everywhere he looked he saw feathers - sleek black feathers, highlighted with purples and blues and accented with silvers. The feathers surrounded Castiel and the light danced off them.

Rate and Review! Be sure to message me or write in a review with any ideas or suggestions!


	2. Chapter 2

_Dean edged up the light switch with his elbow and watched as the lights down the row of lockers turned on, one by one. As the last light turned on, Dean dropped the contents he was holding in his hands and gawked. Everywhere he looked he saw feathers - sleek black feathers, highlighted with purples and blues and accented with silvers. The feathers surrounded Castiel and the light danced off them. _

"Son of a bitch…" Dean muttered.

"Son of God." Castiel corrected as he stepped forward, letting his wings spread out across the width of the lockers and curving a little as they reached the walls.

"What the hell…"

"What the heaven." Castiel corrected again.

"You shut up for a minute! This isn't real! Angels don't exist! It's just some prank; A really, really good one. Who put you up to this? Was it Sam?" Dean rambled on.

Castiel began to speak, but Dean cut him off, "Oh this has Bobby written all over it!"

"Dean. This is real and angels do exist. Your brother and the school counselor did not set this up." Castiel said softly.

"Prove it." Dean said, with his arms crossed.

Castiel disappeared and then moments later appeared at the other end of the lockers. Quickly with a fluttering sound, he reappeared in front of Dean.

"What…" Dean said trailing off.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

"This is too damn weird. I am so done." Dean said, hastily walking out of the room.

Dean exited the school early and went around the to the back. He stood against the wall breathing heavily and then slowly sank lower until he was sitting in the dirt. He sat with his arms resting on his knees and his hands clasped behind his neck. Dean heard footsteps in the distance and looked up, alert. He relaxed when he saw it was just Sam.

"You okay, Dude?" Sam asked.

"Yeah fine. Why?"

"Some kid said he saw you run out here." Sam responded.

"Did this kid happen to have brown hair and blue eyes?" Dean asked dreadfully.

"I suppose so. Why does it matter?" Sam asked.

"No reason. Just sounds like something he would do." Dean said mystically.

"Dean, I've never seen the kid before in my life. Who is he?" Sam said tensely.

"No one important. And trust me, you don't want to meet him." Dean muttered

Giving dean one of his famous bitchfaces, Sam responded, "Well okay then.", and walked back around the corner of the school.

Dean got up off the ground and dusted his jeans off. He walked casually into class and set his backpack down on the desk next to him. The teacher glared at him as he walked in and then went back to teaching about Physics or something science-related. Dean quietly tapped his finger on his arm, looking about the classroom. As he turned to his left, he saw Castiel. Castiel turned and saw him. He didn't smile, frown, or even furrow his brow. His expression was completely neutral. On the other hand, Dean was scared shitless and quickly looked the other way, and uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

Dismissal bell couldn't have taken any longer to ring, but when it did, Dean ran through the door and down the hallway until he was far away from the class. He pushed open the doors and ran down to the bus stop. Dean scanned the bus and watched everyone coming in. He relaxed after the doors closed and the bus slowly started accelerating down the street.

Dean got off the bus and went inside, then marched up the stairs to his bedroom. He jumped on his bed and figured he could clear his mind with a good hour or two of Dr. Sexy M.D. He sneered at the sheer stupidity of the characters, but overall, he adored the show. He turned to the digital clock on his wall and realized he had missed family dinner watching Dr. Sexy. He grabbed the car keys to the Impala and Drove over to Chuck's Pizza Palace, his favorite place for good, cheap food.

Dean walked in to the small restaurant and the door chimed. The blonde waitress waved at Dean as he walked in.

"What's up, Marilyn?" Dean said as he approached the counter.

"Oh, nothing new, darling. You?" Marilyn responded in her strong New York accent.

"I've had a hell of a day. Hell. Of. A. Day." Dean responded.

"Aw shucks. I'll slip a beer in with your order, but don't tell my boss." Marilyn said with a wink. "You want the usual sweet cheeks?"

"Yeah. I'll get the usual." Dean replied.

"One Meat Lovers special with a side of cherry pie coming right up!" Marilyn cheerily said as she dashed off into the back with the order.

Dean sat down at the tabled and waited for Marilyn to come with his order. She lowered the pizza onto a platter in front of him and placed the slice of pie on a small glass plate to the side. Cautiously, she looked around before pouring some beer into Dean's cup. Dean immediately picked up the drink and took a large sip.

"Rough day?" Marilyn asked, taking notice of Dean.

"You don't even know, and **trust** me when I say you don't want to." Dean said, taking another swig.

"You're probably right there, honey." Marilyn added.

Taking one last large sip before setting the glass down, Dean looked at the glass in his hand and laughed while commenting on the beer. "Man, I love this shit."

"Bet you can't wait till you're legal, huh?" Marilyn asked.

"With you around, who says I have to?" Dean said with a smile.

"Listen. I love you like a son, but I'm not getting' you drunk every Friday night just cause you had a bad time at school." Marilyn said sympathetically. "People will start askin' questions."

Marilyn walked off to another table and helped the next guest and dean swished the ice around in his drink. He set it down and picked up a slice of pizza moaning as the warm cheese filled all the crevices in his mouth. Dean stopped chewing as he noticed the couple next to him was staring at him. Apparently his food gasms were louder than he thought. He turned back to his meal and finished eating.

As Dean took his final drink of beer, the door chimers went on again. Joanna walked in the door and walked over to Dean.

"I had a feeling you'd be here." She said.

"You did?" Dean questioned after swallowing.

"Well for starters, your car wasn't home, and the only place you go at night that's nota party is this greasy shack." Joanna responded.

"There a reason you came?" Dean asked.

"Well you see, I was going to have a girls night in with Lisa, but she got sick last minute, and couldn't make it, so I was free tonight." Joanna explained.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. He threw a couple dollars onto his table and hollered a thank you to Marilyn. As they stepped outside, Dean and Joanna ran towards the back alley, a shortcut to the muggy hotel behind the Pizza Palace. Dean quickly picked the lock to a vacant room and the two of them fell in, locking the door behind them. Joanna ran her hands through Dean's hair, thick, yet soft. He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the sides, revealing his chest.

Then, Joanna pinned him against the wall. She closed her eyes and opened them, revealing a pitch black void. She closed them again and they returned to normal. Dean squirmed under her impossibly strong hold on him.

"So tell me where he is Dean. Tell me where the angel is."


	3. Chapter 3

"_So tell me where he is Dean. Tell me where the angel is."_

Dean struggled to push away from Joanna's grip, firm against his wrists. The fear was obvious in his eyes and he shook. Joanna began impatiently tapping her foot on the soil.

"I'm waiting, Dean, and I am not the patient type."

"I don't know. I barely know what the kid looks like except for his frickin wings, Jo!" Dean said desperately.

"This isn't Joanna anymore. She's gone. She's been gone for around…" she paused for a moment. "Three months or so."

Dean shook his head. "Hell no. This is not happening to me. I have had too much weird shit happen this week." He pulled again trying to break free.

"Actually Hell yes." Joanna said. "Now tell me what else you know!" She yelled.

"He goes by the name Cassiel, or Caspiel, or some weird crap like that!" Dean replied, straining.

"You mean Castiel?" Joanna asked.

"Yeah. Castiel. Now can you just let me go?" Dean pleaded.

A fluttering sound occurred from behind Joanna.

Castiel stepped out from behind her.

"You called, Dean?" he asked.

"No I did not. And I'm kind of in a situation here if you don't mind!" Dean said gesturing his head towards Joanna.

"I can see that. You are a really dangerous human." Castiel said.

Joanna turned her head to Castiel.

"The King of Hell will take you for your appointment now." Joanna said sassily.

"King of what?!" Dean asked still against the wall.

Castiel flexed his hand at his side. "Well, tell him to schedule with me directly and leave my human out of it next time, then." He said, before placing his hand on Joanna's forehead. "Avert your eyes!"

Dean closed his eyes, but still felt the heat of the light on his face, and then the pressure of the grip on his wrists fell to none and he stepped away from the wall.

"Now let's get one thing straight, angel boy." Dean said strongly, but slightly out of breath. "Don't call me your human. I am nobody's bitch. Especially not some weirdo angel with black wings and special hands!" Dean said, turning to walk the other way.

Castiel appeared in front of him. "Well of course you're nobody's bitch. You're not a female dog." Castiel replied calmly and blatantly.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just don't call me your human!"

"Well what do I call you then?"

"Well, I want you leave me alone." Dean said, trying to walk around Castiel.

"I can't do that, Dean. I was sent here for a reason." Castiel replied sternly.

"And what reason was that?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"You."

"My ass." Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"What about your ass?" Castiel asked confused.

"Just leave me alone, dude!" Dean yelled.

"Do you know what that was back there, Dean?" Dean said, his eyes widening in concern.

"Some kind of street drug gone wrong? Crystal Meth? I don't know what that bitch was into." Dean replied, still trying to get around Castiel.

"That was a demon."

"Ha!" Dean exclaimed almost nervously. "Maybe you're the one on street drugs!"

"No, I would never." Castiel replied.

"Is she going to be okay?" Dean asked, gesturing towards the mess of blonde hair lying face down in the dirt.

"She should wake up within ten minutes. I wiped the last two months of her memory and replaced it with normal memory of school days." Castiel explained.

"Whatever, wing dude." Dean said, turning the other way and picking up his wallet off the ground before walking off.

Dean stopped walking after a few moments. "Say Castiel. Why didn't you just erase my memory after seeing you?" Dean asked, turning back to face him.

"Because everyone else knows you've met me now. And others, others stronger than that demon there are going to be out for you." Castiel answered.

"Well why'd you have to drag me into this? It's you they're pissed at, right?" Dean yelled, a tad annoyed and angry.

"Yes, they are angered with me, but because I'm protecting you. You're the most important person in the history of creation!" Castiel proclaimed joyously.

"I'm not important! I'm a teenage kid with straight C's and D's and a ton of one-night-stands!" Dean replied back.

"That's a story for another time, Dean." Castiel said and then vanished into thin air.

Dean muttered to himself and walked under the yellow haze of the streetlights back to the diner where his car was parked. He walked the long way around instead of taking the short cut. As he had the restaurant in view as he rounded the corner, all the streetlights went out around him.

"What the hell?" he said to himself.

"That's right, now. You're getting the hang of it, darling." A snarky Scottish voice said from behind him.

Dean quickly spun around to see the man about his height in a black suit and a little bit of stubble on his face.

"Who are you?" Dean called into the darkness.

The man in the suit snapped his fingers and the street light above him came on like a spot light.

"Crowley."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Dean asked him.

"Really, you haven't heard of me?" Crowley whined.

"No?" Dean said curiously. "Should I have?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Get with the program, darling. King of Hell."

Dean slowly pulled a pocketknife from his pocket and ran towards Crowley. He shot Dean a dubious look as he raised his hand, suspending Dean in air.

"King. Of. Hell. You're not going to get rid of me by stabbing me with a $5 pocketknife." Crowley remarked.

"Worth a shot, wasn't it?" Dean asked.

"Not really. You must be to this."

"Yeah kind of. I found out this creep in my gym class was an angel and ten minutes ago, my possessed girlfriend tried to kill me. So yeah." Dean said.

"Oh she wouldn't have killed you. Amanda was only there for information about this angel you mentioned. Castiel is it?" Crowley asked.

"Yeah. He can kill things like you!" Dean yelled at Crowley. "Your Majesty…"

"I'm flattered. I really am, but no need for that. And I doubt that little messenger of God can kill the King of Hell."

"Castiel!" Dean called. "You're around here somewhere aren't you?"

After a few moments, there was silence.

Crowley snickered. "Looks like your guardian angel isn't here for you anymore, huh?"

"Castiel! The King of Hell's here!" Dean called again.

Castiel appeared in front of Dean. "Crowley." He said nodding at him.

"Castiel." Crowley replied back with an equal head nod.

"You know I'll never let you or your kind get your hands on the human child!" Castiel called to Crowley.

Dean cleared his throat.

"I mean Dean." Castiel corrected.

"Oh you're on a first name basis. How intimate." Crowley joked.

"I don't understand how you find this matter so amusing." Castiel stated.

"Because we've already won." Crowley said with a smile.

"Heaven will never let that happen." Castiel scowled.

"You can try, Cassie." Crowley sneered. "Oh, and be sure to tell your supervisor this."

Crowley muttered something in Enochian, which confused Dean.

Castiel's face turned white and he turned to Dean. "We're leaving." He placed two fingers on Dean's head and the two were in his bedroom.

"Dean before you even think about going out again, you need to memorize this." Castiel said handing Dean a piece of paper.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Dean before you even think about going out again, you need to memorize this." Castiel said handing Dean a piece of paper._

Dean rolled his eyes. "What the hell is this?" he asked.

"It's an exorcism ritual." Castiel replied. "It sends a demon back to hell once you say it."

Dean squinted at the scribbles on the paper. "What language is this anyways? Italian?"

"It's a Latin ritual." Castiel answered.

Dean chuckled bitter sweetly. "Guess I should've paid more attention in Latin class last semester."

Castiel opened Dean's bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, trying not to sound panicked.

"I'm just getting salt."

"Salt? Why the hell do you need salt?" Dean responded.

"Protection." Castiel answered directly, walking downstairs.

Castiel slowly walked down the stairs, his hand gliding down the cool, metal railing. He poked his head in rooms until he found the kitchen. A taller than average man stood in front of the stove, mixing an omelet. He was holding a cell phone between his ear and shoulder, unaware of the stranger. Castiel began opening cupboards. He was rummaging through a cabinet of spices when the tall man noticed him. He gasped, dropping the phone from his shoulder.

"Shit…" he muttered picking up the phone. "I take it you're one of Dean's friends? You don't look like Sam's type."

Castiel nodded, absent from the conversation. "Yes, I suppose I am."

The tall man went back to the phone, ending the conversation with a quick 'I love you.'. "Well, I'm John. I'm the boys' dad."

Castiel still didn't make eye contact with their father. "I gathered as much."

"Can I help you, son?" John asked, coming into Castiel's peripheral vision.

"I don't suppose you have salt?" Castiel asked.

"How much do you need? A teaspoon?" John asked, unscrewing the lid from a salt shaker on the counter.

"I need six imperial cups or more." Castiel replied. "Five, bare minimum."

John stood in silence for a moment. "Sorry kid. Your science project will have to wait a little longer then. I only have what's in here." He said placing the saltshaker on the counter and pulling a small can of Morton's Ionized Salt off the top of the refrigerator.

Castiel sighed. "I'll work with it." He muttered.

He grabbed the can and shaker and hurried up the stairs to see Dean lying on his bed reading the paper.

"Dude, Cas, I'm going to call you that now. Good? Good." Dean said, not allowing Castiel to respond. "What does all this mean anyways. And how is this all pronounced?" he said, rotating the paper as if it would help in understanding.

Castiel began sprinkling lines of salt on the windows and doorways in his room. "In a moment."

Dean tried to sound out the first line. "Excersizamos tee, omnes immoondis spiritiz"

Castiel finished up lining the room with salt and then turned to Dean. "You really did not pay attention in Latin. How did you even pass?"

"I paid Sammy the money to buy Game of Thrones Season Two Disk Set if he faked my answers for me." Dean responded.

Castiel shook his head in disappointment.

"So teach me how to read this, dude." Dean said, sitting upright and swinging his feet off the edge of the bed.

Castiel tore a page out of a nearby notebook and conjured a pen in his hand. "I'll draw you out a pronunciation guide."

After a few moments of writing, Castiel showed the page to Dean. Within a few tries, Dean was pronouncing the first lines of the exorcism correctly.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." Dean read slowly.

"Very good. So just memorize that tonight and we can work on the rest tomorrow." Castiel said approvingly.

Dean glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand and groaned. "It's already midnight. No wonder I'm tired."

"Since it's so late, may I ask you a contextual question?" Castiel asked, turning to Dean.

"I think I understand what you just said. Sure." Dean said.

"Just a few minutes ago, your father, John, was making an omelet. Why?"

Dean sighed. "Ever since my dad's been having relationship problems with his girlfriend, he's been drinking a lot. He'll wake up at noon and go to bed at like 2 AM."

Castiel's hint of pride fizzled out of his eyes. "Oh." He said quietly.

Castiel stood up and sat down in a beanbag on the floor. "Get some sleep, Dean. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

Dean swung up his legs back onto his bed. "Really, dude? It's a weekend."

Castiel reached up for the light switch. "Evil doesn't take weekends."

The lights turned off and the room blackened.

Dean continued to speak.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel responded.

"Why am I the most important person in all of creation? And what was that that Crowley said back there?" Dean asked quietly.

Castiel breathed heavily. "Somethings are better understood once experienced than learned, Dean."

"Come on, Cas. I think I've seen enough tonight that I get some answers." Dean said sternly.

"It's too long a story for right now, Dean, but I'll explain it in short. There is a war going on between heaven and hell at the moment. It's been going on for millennia, but since your birth, it has escalated enormously." Castiel explained.

"That doesn't tell me why the hell I'm so important." Dean muttered.

"You're like a fail-safe switch. If hell gets their hands on you and get deep enough into your head, they can cause heaven, hell, and Earth to collide. All the demons are freed from hell. This includes the knights of hell and Satan himself. All the angels fall from heaven. Earth becomes the battle zone. Angels and demons struggle to find vessels strong enough for them and then battle it out physically, still using their powers. This means eventually torture and death for all the humans on this Earth and with heaven and hell being too enormous against each other, God couldn't reverse it. The demons are out to get you and I've been sent here to protect you - A soldier of God."

Dean was silent.

"Dean?" Castiel asked. "Do you understand?"

Dean shuffled a little in the bedsheets. "Yeah, but I still don't see why you chose me out of all the people on the world."

"Because you're special, Dean." Castiel said. "You're special to the universe, to hell, to heaven, to God, and to me."

Dean sat in silence for a minute. "I never really did thank you for saving my ass back there."

"Gratitude is not necessary. I was created for this purpose." Castiel replied.

"Well thanks anyways." Dean responded. "Don't you have some home or something to go to and sleep at night? Or do you plan to nap in that beanbag all night?"

"I don't sleep. I'm going to watch guard." Castiel answered.

"Oh. Well that's not creepy at all." Dean muttered.

"You should just worry about getting rested. If anything happens, I'll wake you." Castiel said.

"I'll try." Murmured Dean. "Night, Cas."

"Goodnight Dean." Castiel responded softly.

The morning came and Castiel woke Dean promptly at 8.

"We need to move out. Immediately." Castiel said sternly.

Dean yawned. "Why what's going on?"

"Come see for yourself." Castiel answered.

Dean approached the window and saw hundreds of pairs of black eyes staring at his bedroom window.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dean yawned. "Why what's going on?" _

"_Come see for yourself." Castiel answered._

_Dean approached the window and saw hundreds of pairs of black eyes staring at his bedroom window. _

"Those things." Dean started to say, alarmed. "That what was in Joanna for all that time, right?"

Castiel nodded slowly.

"Cas, what do we do?" Dean asked, now in a panic. "I'm new to this, dude!"

Castiel turned and gripped Dean by the shoulders. "Get in that closet over there. Face the corner away from me. Close your eyes as tight as you can, and plug your ears and much as you can. Whatever you see or hear, don't come out until I get you. Understand?"

Dean shook his head. He ran off towards the closet and followed Castiel's instructions.

Outside the closet, Castiel climbed onto the windowsill above the hundreds of demons. Their head's all turned to face him.

"Ugh. That's creepy." He muttered. "Here goes nothing."

Castiel's hand began glowing faintly at first and then began getting quickly brighter. His eyes slightly glowed with it. He cringed as he pointed his glowing hand at half the group of demons, and then mirrored with his other hand. A high pitched screeching echoed from all around the neighborhood. Black smoke crowded the sky as the screeching and light faded. Over 200 bodies collapsed in the street, some unconscious and others dead. Slowly, but in sync, the black smoke lowered to the ground and dissolved through it, straight down to hell.

Castiel dizzily lowered himself in through the window. He walked drunkenly towards the closet, but lost balance and fell on the bedpost. He took a few deep breaths to stabilize himself. He picked himself back up and violently threw open the closet doors.

Dean felt the warmth of the sun on his back and the hot air of the stuffy closet exiting. He slowly turned around, opening one eye just to make sure the coast was clear. He saw Castiel and was relieved at first until he noticed the state he was in.

Castiel wheezed softly. "Dean we need to go."

He grabbed Dean's bicep and began to pull him out into the open. Dean planted his feet firmly in the carpeting and refused to exit the closet. "I'm not letting you do anything in _this_ state!" Dean exclaimed.

Castiel's skin was pure white with no coloration at all. Sweat had formed around his sleeves and neck area. His face was also drenched. He was wheezing slightly, trying to act normal and not cough. He tried hard to stabilize himself, but was constantly falling over with a throbbing headache and occasional blackout.

"I'm fine, Dean. Now let's go." Castiel ushered.

Dean crossed his arms, jerking out of Castiel's grasp. "Dude. You need rest. You need to get some sleep!"

Castiel shook his head in disagreement. "Angels don't need sleep. We never sleep." He responded blatantly, grabbing onto the bedpost again.

"Well most angels don't do whatever the hell you did out there." Dean defended defiantly.

"Dean really I-" Castiel started before being cut off.

"I don't want to hear it, Cas. Now I'm going to go downstairs and get you a glass of ice water. You better be lying down nice and comfy somewhere when I get back." Dean argued.

Castiel gave into Dean's authority at the moment and sat down on the foot of the bed.

Dean unlocked his bedroom door and opened it. He screamed and slammed it shut, with his back against it.

Cas stood up, but fell back down. "What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean opened the door just a crack to look again.

"There's more. They're in Sammy and my dad." Dean stated.

Castiel turned his head to look towards the doorway. "Is the salt line still intact when you open the door?" He asked.

"Yeah. Pretty sure." Dean said.

"I'm too weak to exorcise any demons." Castiel said. "You're going to have to do this on your own."

Dean's pupils contracted. "What?!" he exclaimed. "I can't exorcise a demon!"

"Sure you can." Castiel said pointing a finger towards the scrap of paper in Dean's pocket.

Dean pulled out the paper and the pronunciation key.

"Good. Now open the door carefully. Be sure not to disturb the salt." Castiel said.

Dean slowly opened the door, watching the salt line. His father stood there with black eyes and smirk on his face.

"Christo!" Castiel called from the bed.

"What was that?" Dean called as the demons twitched a little.

"It knocks them off their guard. Now hurry." Castiel explained.

Dean turned back to the demons and began reciting the exorcism. After the first few lines, the demon in his father spoke up.

"You probably don't want to do that, Dean Winchester." The demon started.

"Give me one good reason." Dean said.

"I can tell you what your daddy thinks of you. I'm in this head of his." The Demon answered.

"Don't believe a word out of its mouth!" Castiel wheezed.

Dean continued reciting the exorcism while the demon began to talk.

"Dean Winchester – failure in the eyes of his father. His brother is four years younger and already has a scholarship to Stanford. All Dean does is sit around getting laid and trying to sneak beer out of the fridge. Kid doesn't do anything for his family." The demon spoke.

Dean's voice quivered while reciting the exorcism a constant battle for volume with the demons until they were screaming at each other. "Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae  
te rogamus, audi nos." Dean finished.

Two plumes of black smoke darted towards the ground as Sam and John fell to the ground outside Dean's room. Dean immediately went to their sides. A raspy voice whispered from behind him. "They'll be fine. They're just unconscious. I can wipe their memories once I'm stronger if you'd like." Castiel offered.

"Yes. Please do that for them. They don't need to remember any of this hell." Dean commented. Castiel nodded in acknowledgement.

Dean hoisted himself up into standing position. He walked over and sat on the side of the bed opposite Castiel. "So how long until your strong enough to be back to normal again?" Dean asked. "Could take a week minimum. I may be one of heaven's strongest angels, but even an archangel shouldn't attempt to exorcise that many demons at once, Dean."

"How can I keep them safe?" Dean asked, desperation heavy in his words.

"Draw _this_ on them somewhere not easily seen." Castiel said handing Dean a piece of paper after scribbling a design on it. "They should get it tattooed eventually, but a permanent marker should work for now."

Dean observed the design. "What is this?"

"It's an anti-posession symbol. A demon cannot posess you if you have one on you. I recommend you draw one on, too." Castiel stated.

Dean rummaged through his backpack for a marker and emerged from it a fine-tipped sharpie. He copied the design on the hips of Sam and his father and then on his own.

Dean turned back to Castiel and the lights started flickering. "You doing that, Cas?"

"He's coming back. The salt won't hold him back for long." Castiel said mysteriously.

"Who? Who's coming?" Dean asked fearingly.

"Crowley. The King of Hell is returning to get what he wants." Castiel muttered. "We need to leave now."

"Cas you said yourself you're nowhere near strong enough to use your powers!" Dean pleaded.

"We have to leave. It is my duty to heaven to protect you and that is what I'll do." Castiel said dignified.

"Using your powers could kill you, though." Dean cried, worry resting on his shoulders.

"That's a risk I have to take." Castiel responded. He put his fingers to Dean and they were in an abandoned warehouse covered in all kinds of signs, symbols, and sigils.

"What are all these symbols, Cas?" Dean asked the angel.

"Cas?" he asked again when he heard no response.

He turned around and saw the angel lying collapsed on the floor, his normally stiff hair loose and scattered in his face.

Dean fell to his knees and grabbed Castiel's hand between his, lifting it to his chest.

"Stay with me man. Stay with me. I may not know you that well, hell, I don't even know if I should trust you, but at this point you're all I've got. And I can't survive this without you." Dean said, distraught, still clenching the tiny, cold hand between his palms.

"Don't leave now, Cas." Dean choked quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dean fell to his knees and grabbed Castiel's hand between his, lifting it to his chest. _

"_Stay with me man. Stay with me. I may not know you that well, hell, I don't even know if I should trust you, but at this point you're all I've got. And I can't survive this without you." Dean said, distraught, still clenching the tiny, cold hand between his palms._

"_Don't leave now, Cas." Dean choked quietly. _

Still kneeling, Dean put his face near Castiel's, hoping to feel a faint warm breath or hear a quiet wheeze. After a few moments, he put his hand on Castiel's heart. He felt nothing. He heard nothing. There was nothing. Dean stood up quickly. He wasn't sure what to do. He was mad, confused, distraught, terrified, but most of all, he was alone.

Dean put his head against the nearby wall and kicked it hard. He swore under his breath. He backed away and stood by Castiel again. He looked towards the ceiling and yelled in anger.

"Listen, God, I know I'm new to this whole 'religion' thing, but hell, if angels are real, then you must be, right? Well my freakin' angel isn't breathing! Can't you bring him back to life? I'm kind of unprepared here!"

Dean sighed heavily and heard a voice that sounded like it had a permanent smirk in it.

"I was sent in response to your prayer. I was kind of in the middle of something, so if you could quit whining, so I-" the angel stopped when Dean stepped aside and saw the pale figure on the floor.

He ran over to him and placed the back of his hand on Castiel's forehead.

"Baby brother…" he said softly.

Dean stepped over towards the angel. "You know Cas?"

"I don't just know, Castiel. We're family." The angel said in a 'Duh. Of Course.' tone.

"Well, what's wrong with him? Can you bring him back to life?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Wow. You really are new to this angel stuff."

"So he's not dead?" Dean asked again.

"The only way to tell if an angel's dead is if his wings are out. Castiel's wings aren't out." The angel explained.

"He's not breathing, though." Dean responded, gesturing towards his unmoving chest.

The angel rolled his eyes. "Angel's don't breathe, dumbnut. He's just in a comatose state. He'll only wake up once his grace starts to recharge. That could take anywhere from a day to a millennium. What exactly did he do to exhaust his grace this much?"

"He exorcised around 200 demons at once." Dean answered, a twinge of guilt in his words.

The angel let out an exasperated sigh. "That's Castiel for you. He's a legend in heaven, but sometimes he really does not think."

"So. Can't you recharge this "grace" stuff?" Dean asked.

"He's a special angel. He's been to hell too many times for even an angel of my power to recharge his grace without depleting themself."

"What do you mean of your power?" Dean questioned dubiously.

"I'm an archangel – highest rank of angel in heaven. I'm Gabriel. You may have heard of me." He said extending his hand.

Dean grasped his hand and shook it. "Dean Winchester – Most important man in the universe." He winked at Gabriel.

Gabriel's face turned a pale shade of white. "I'm sorry. I must leave. I can't be here."

"How do I help him?" Dean demanded hastily.

"You're special like you said, so think fairytale. That's all I can say. I'm sorry." Gabriel said and with a flutter of wings, he was gone.

"Dammit!" Dean yelled. "Think fairytale? What's that even supposed to mean?"

Dean recalled any stories he could remember from his childhood; Snow White, Cinderella, Mulan, Pocahontas, Sleeping Beauty.

"That stupid ultrasound lady…" Dean muttered. His parents were informed they were having a girl and so everyone gave pink items and girly Disney movies. And that's what made his childhood. He shook away the horrific memories of his early childhood and thought about the stories.

"In Snow White, the chick runs away from home, gets poisoned, and then rescued by the prince. In Cinderella, the chick sneaks out to a party and gets the guy. In Mulan, the chick runs away, saves the kingdom, and gets the guy. In Pocahontas, the chick sneaks off with her friend, goes to war with his people, and then rushes to his side when he gets hurt, and then gets the guy. In sleeping beauty, the chick is asleep and gets woken by her prince." Dean thought out loud.

Dean thought for a minute. "Well they always do something stupid and get in trouble. Cas did something stupid and is in trouble." He said casting a wary glance at the lump on the floor. "Where is this going?" he asked the lump, before returning to his original thought process. "And in the stories, they are rescued by the prince. So if Cas is the idiot princess or heroine or whatever the hell they are, am I the prince?" Dean wondered out loud in disgust.

Dean began going over how the prince saved the princesses.

"Well I have nothing to kill at this point…" He concluded.

"And Cas isn't physically injured, at least not that I can fix with bandages…"

"Marrying a comatose angel isn't the solution either. Thanks a lot Cinderella." Dean mused.

"This only leaves…" Dean started. "Oh hell no!" Dean yelled into the ceiling. "Up yours, Gabriel!"

Dean displayed a look on his face as if he saw a dead squirrel on his pie.

"Here goes nothing." Dean muttered with a sigh.

He knelt by Castiel and looked at him for a few moments. He closed his eyes and quickly and lightly pressed his lips on Cas'. He went to draw back, but felt a heat surge through his mouth and pull him harder on Castiel. He opened his eyes to see faint glow coming from Castiel and the color returning to his skin. Castiel's eyes fluttered open and Dean tore himself off. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Dude. What the hell what that?" Dean exclaimed.

"You recharged my grace, Dean." Castiel stated as he raised himself to his feet.

"Well, don't make me do that again. That wasn't exactly peachy for me." Dean complained.

"I'll keep that in mind. I was unaware you had that kind of power within you, though, Dean. Even an archangel couldn't recharge my grace at that state."

"Speaking of, your buddy Gabriel stopped by." Dean added.

"Why did he come by?" Cas asked.

"He instructed me to…you know...kiss you." Dean said his face turning crimson and breaking eye contact.

"Oh okay." Castiel replied. "I've brought you to a safe place. It isn't very comfortable, but it's warded against pretty much anything except angels and humans."

"So that's what these symbols and shit are?" Dean asked.

"Yes. That is what these symbols are. As for the shit, there are no feces in here. Only blood." Castiel replied.

"I take it the symbols are painted with blood." Dean stated.

"That would be correct."

"So what if I'm hungry or tired or need to pee?" Dean asked. "I don't see a McDonalds or bed around here anywhere." Dean argued defiantly

"I can make it a little more comfortable for you, Dean. I can also bring you any food you request." Castiel calmly answered.

He snapped his fingers and a king sized bed appeared in the corner of the room. At the same time, a door appeared a few feet from the bed.

"There's a bathroom through that door." Castiel pointed towards the door.

"Oh thanks, Cas."

"Like I said earlier, It's my duty to heaven." Castiel replied.

"What is it exactly that you're protecting me from?" Dean asked.

"I don't know for certain, but there are creatures from all depths of hell that could have been released to find you. We don't know which one or ones that were released, but I'm here to ensure that whatever or whoever they are, they don't get to you."

"And if you don't protect me?" Dean asked.

"Then I lose my wings. Not like it would matter. Hell and Heaven would collide causing a loss of order and a mass of chaos. So I'm going to protect you or die trying." Cas stated boldly.

"Well. It's almost noon. Care for some lunch?" Dean proposed.

"Angels don't eat." Castiel replied.

"Can you?" Dean asked.

"Well, yes, but we don't need to." Castiel responed.

"Well in that case, grab something tasty for yourself and get me a burger and slice of pie, the best pie in the world." Dean said.

With a flutter, Castiel vanished, but a few minutes later, he returned with two Big Macs, a box of fries and a warm pie in a box. The box had Chinese writing on it.

"Best pie in the world." Castiel said and placed the pie in front of Dean. He poured some of the fries on the napkin and passed a burger to Dean.

"Thanks dude." Dean said with his mouth half full from the burger.

Cas smiled as he took a bite from his own.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Best pie in the world." Castiel said and placed the pie in front of Dean. He poured some of the fries on the napkin and passed a burger to Dean._

_"Thanks dude." Dean said with his mouth half full from the burger._

_Cas smiled as he took a bite from his own._

After they'd both finished their meals, Dean opened the small pie box. It was still warm and it smelled like cherries. He lifted the rather large slice of pie out and set it on his napkin.

"Have some pie, Cas. You got it for me anyways." Dean said sawing the pie in half with a plastic knife.

"That is not necessary, Dean." Castiel answered politely.

"Dude. This is really freakin' huge, too. Have. Some." Dean replied pushing one half of the pie over to him on another napkin.

Castiel nodded as he picked up his own plastic cutlery.

He took a bite and his whole facial expression changed. "I know the box says otherwise, but this is not a slice of heaven. Heaven is in tact, but otherwise, this is a very unique taste."

"So you like it?" Dean asked.

"Very much so. I'm surprised I never had any while pretending to be human." Castiel replied.

"Speaking of, aren't the teachers going to notice you're gone?" Dean mentioned.

"Yes and no. They'll realize that I am gone, and everyone else will, but I erased all mention of me from their system including ID swipes, library books, and attendance records." Castiel stated casually.

Dean eyed him suspiciously. "_You_ did all that?"

"Yeah. It was no problem really." Castiel said plainly.

"No problem? That must've taken you days!" Dean exclaimed.

"You seem to forget I'm an angel of the Lord. We too, work in mysterious ways."

"Tell me about it." Dean sarcastically said rolling his eyes.

"I just did." Castiel replied confused.

"What? …Oh."

Dean and Castiel sat silently for a few moments.

"So do I have to live here my whole life?" Dean asked.

"No, only until you are 18." Castiel began. "Whenever a fail-safe switch is created in a human, it only works until their 16th birthday."

"Well then why am I waiting until I'm 18? And why haven't demons gotten to me when I was little?" Dean interrupted.

"You're different. Like I said, Dean. You are the most important person in the whole of creation. You are the most unstable fail-safe switch ever and are active longer than any man has or will be. You are constantly active until 18, and from then on, every 6 months. I have been watching over and protecting you your whole life, you've just been unaware of me, for I have taken over many visages. After you turn 18, I will leave and either I, or another angel will stay with you for 24 hours. And it hasn't been until recently that the demons have found their way into Purgatory, and retrieved the beasts needed to hunt you down and activate you, and by that I mean kill you." Castiel continued.

Dean nodded, acting as if he understood what Cas had just said, but honestly, he didn't have a damn clue what any of that meant. "What do you mean unstable?"

"The other fail-safe switches throughout humanity had to be killed by choking on demon blood and then getting stabbed in the heart with an angel blade. You, on the other hand, if you die of sickness, or car accident, or murder, if you die on any of the active days, the world goes to hell. Literally."

"Okay. So don't die on my birthday. Got it." Dean joked, trying to lighten the situation despite the morbid seriousness of it.

"Is there anything else you want or need me to get you?" Castiel asked.

"Are you going to be with me 24/7 until I turn 18?" Dean replied.

"Yes. It's my assignment." Castiel answered.

"Well. We're going to need some way of passing the time." Dean mused. "So what do you enjoy doing, Cas?"

"Well, I don't know…All I've done for the last million years is serve the Lord and rescue souls from hell. I suppose that's _fun_." Castiel said unsurely.

"No, Cas. That is not fun, and definitely not doable from this warehouse. So do you like games, or porn, or playing your harp?"

"I suppose I could try some of your human _games_." Cas suggested.

"Okay…" Dean said with thought. "Do you know how to play chess?"

"Yes. I do in fact. When I had just received my grace and was learning how to fly, my big brother Gabriel taught me. It's a very cognitive game." Castiel answered.

"A _what_ game?"

"You have to think during it."

"Oh. How about you get a chess set in here? And some AC/DC and Metallica tapes!" Dean suggested.

"One moment, Dean." Castiel said and then disappeared.

He reappeared after a few moments with a small boxed chess set and classic rock tapes in a Ziploc bag.

Dean eyed the tapes suspiciously. "Where did you get those?"

"Your room." Castiel blatantly responded.

Dean protectively glanced at the bag again.

Castiel conjured a small wooden table and two chairs by Dean. He made a tape playing stereo appear on the side of the table. He walked over and handed Dean the bag of tapes and instantly made the chessboard set itself up.

"Showoff." Dean said teasingly.

Castiel rolled his eyes.

"White goes first." He said, gesturing towards Dean's side of the board.

"Oh. Right." Dean replied and moved a pawn two spaces forward. "What's a good game without music?" Dean said as he put a Metallica tape into the stereo.

After Castiel had won 3 times, he and Dean started to forget what they were really doing and were doing more talking that playing.

Castiel shared stories from heaven as 'Master of Puppets' played loudly.

"And then Gabriel told him to shove it up his ass. So that's the story of how Michael created dildos!" Castiel finished through laughter.

"You're kidding!" Dean exclaimed.

"No. I'm quite serious." Castiel said to the red-faced Dean on the floor. "Are you okay, Dean?"

"I'm fine! It's just the alcohol getting to me!" Dean called from the ground.

"I didn't bring you an alcoholic beverage, Dean." Castiel stated.

"I had an emergency flask in my pocket." Dean explained, still chuckling. "I still can't believe Gabriel and Michael, some of heavens most renowned angels, would do that!"

"Angels aren't fat babies in in white dresses with halos, Dean. They're actually quite sinister at times." Castiel said.

"Can you help me up, dude?" Dean called from the ground.

Castiel stood up and offered Dean his hand. Dean grabbed it and jerked it back immediately causing Castiel to tumble to the ground next to Dean.

Cas gave Dean a scolding look. "Was that necessary, Dean?"

"Of course!" Dean replied.

"How high was the alcohol content in that beer?" Cas asked.

"Beer? That was whiskey!"

Cas turned towards Dean on the floor and sighed heavily before lifting himself up off the ground.

"Are you going to get up now?" He asked.

"Help me up." Dean whined putting his hand up.

"I'm not falling for that again, Dean." Castiel said sternly.

"No. Seriously. I can't feel my legs. Help me up." Dean said.

Castiel grabbed Dean's hand, but Dean pulled Castiel back down to the ground. Instead of landing next to Dean this time, Castiel landed on top of him, his hands barely holding him off Dean. Dean giggled like an idiot as Castiel shot him a look very similar to the bitchfaces Sam frequently sent Dean's way. Dean immediately quieted down. The silence in the room was so loud you could feel it. It was the first time Castiel had actually taken a moment to look at Dean's features. He had a sharp jaw and a slightly speckled face. His eyes were like the emeralds in the sunlight that he saw with Gabriel hundreds of years ago. He could feel Dean's breath warm against his face and could smell the alcohol in it.

After a moment he snapped out of it and rolled himself off Dean and onto the floor next to him. He stood up and brushed the dust off the back of his pants.

"I am never letting you around alcohol again." Cas muttered.

"I'm going to go comb out my wings while you sober up." Castiel told Dean.

He began walking and felt Dean reach out and grab his ankle. He tried to shake him off, but Dean had a strong hold.

"Dean. Would you j-" Cas began before being abruptly jerked back down to the ground yet again.

Trying to resist the urge to slap the drunk out of him, Castiel just gave Dean a death glare.

Dean leaned sideways over Castiel. "Diddd Ii Evvrrr Tull…" Dean started saying drunkenly. Castiel cocked his head in confusion, only to be answered with a heavy weight smashing into his chest. Dean had passed out. On Castiel. He sighed extremely heavily.

"Of all the angels in the garrison. Of all the angels in **heaven**." Castiel muttered.

Castiel gently rolled Dean off him and picked him up. He brought him over to the bed and gently put him down.

"Sleep tight you drunk fool." Castiel said and ruffled Dean's hair.


	8. Chapter 8

_Castiel gently rolled Dean off him and picked him up. He brought him over to the bed and gently put him down. _

"_Sleep tight you drunk fool." Castiel said and ruffled Dean's hair._

Dean woke up and slowly swung his legs over the bed. He cracked his neck and groaned. "Hey dad, when did you change my bed?" He rubbed his eyes and waited for his vision to adjust.

"Oh. I forgot." Dean mumbled to himself. "Hey Cas, can you do something about this bed?"

After a few moments of silence, Dean looked around.

"Cas?" Dean called. "Cas!"

Castiel pulled an earbud out of one of his ears. "Over here, Dean."

"What the hell are you doing up there?" Dean exclaimed to the angel strapped to a chair on the ceiling.

"It started when this girl from Biology 102 somehow got a hold of my number and sent me a _text_ I believe it's called." Cas explained.

"You have a phone?" Dean asked surprised.

"All part of the façade of being human, Dean." Castiel replied.

"Well, continue. I'd love to hear why you nailed yourself to the ceiling." Dean said, trying to tame his hair.

"She sent me a picture of a chair nailed to a ceiling and said it would be cool. Honestly I sense so temperature change. I just feel slightly dizzy." Castiel finished.

"What were you listening to?" Dean asked hearing faint music come from the white hanging earbud.

"She said I should check out this band One Direction."

Dean's jaw dropped. "Not that shit. You need some real music! Give me that!" He said making grabby hands towards Castiel's phone.

Dean proceeded to download some AC/DC, Metallica, and Black Sabbath onto the phone.

"There. Now do you want help – Agh!" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was drunk last night wasn't I?"

Castiel nodded.

"Like I was saying, Do you want help down?" Dean offered.

"That would be nice." Castiel answered.

Dean grabbed a pocket knife from his jeans and cut lose the rope that tied Cas to the chair. Castiel fell to the cement floor and landed on his back.

"I don't recommend doing that again." Dean advised walking towards the bathroom.

After rummaging for a few minutes Dean called out, "When you made this place, you didn't think to equip it with Tylenol or some hangover remedies?" A medicine cabinet popped against a wall. Dean immediately began reading labels on the pill bottles.

"Your welcome." Castiel called.

After Dean choked down the Tylenol and what not, he returned to his bed, face down on the pillow.

"You do realize alcohol is bad for your health, Dean." Castiel said, looming over Dean.

"You do realize that I don't give a shit." Dean mumbled briefly lifting his head off the pillow.

Castiel sighed heavily. "Just remember that there are bigger things at stake than your life."

Not even bothering to lift his head this time, Dean just muttered "Whatever." into the pillow.

"Are you hungry? It's almost 10." Castiel asked.

Dean rolled over onto his back. "Can it be homemade?"

"I suppose I can make you a meal." Castiel responded.

"I want pie. Cherry." Dean said blatantly.

"Dean, I'm not baking you a pie, at least not for breakfast." Castiel replied.

Dean sighed. "Fine. Can you at least make blueberry pancakes?"

"That I can do." And with a touch of his grace, Castiel made a small cooking area with ingredients set up near the bed.

Dean chuckled.

"What is of humor of this situation?" Castiel asked.

"The fact that I have a younger kid making me freakin' pancakes." Dean answered.

"I am not a fledgling, Dean. And I'm definitely not younger than you. I'm millions of years old." Castiel shot back.

"In my world you're fifteen and younger than me. So I'm going to savor this moment." Dean replied.

Castiel mixed together the batter and blueberries and poured the mix in the frying pan. The pancakes cooked quickly and he put them on a plate.

"Dean, the pancakes are finished." Castiel called behind him.

"I want breakfast in bed." Dean whined.

"I am your Guardian, not your waitress. Now get your ass over here." Castiel said with a sarcastic smile.

"Ooh. Controlling." Dean replied, hauling himself once again off the bed. He pulled out a chair in the wooden table from last night, picking up his plate on the way.

"So. About Sammy and my dad…You're sure they're safe?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder towards Castiel.

"I assure you, Dean, they're in good hands." Dean said, placing a hand on Deans shoulder. Dean shivered at the feel of Castiel's hand, still warm from cooking.

"I probably should've asked this earlier." Dean said tentatively. "Where's my shirt? Nothing happened when I was drunk last night, right?"

Castiel sat silently for a moment. "I'm not sure which explanation you'd find more humiliating…"

"Just get on with it." Dean said shooting Cas a sharp look.

"You vomited all over yourself, so I removed your shirt so I could wash it. It's drying in the bathroom. And no, if by 'happening' you mean we had intercourse, then no, nothing 'happened' between us." Castiel said with air quotes.

Dean had an unsure look in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he should be disgusted, embarrassed, or entertained.

"Well at least that explains why I smell like barf." Dean said with a fake smile.

"Yes that does." Castiel answered.

"That was rhetorical." Dean replied. "So how long until my shirt's dry?"

"Probably a few hours. I didn't wash it until right before you woke up." Castiel sighed.

"Oh. I don't take it you have anything else to wear?" Dean asked.

"You can have my shirt." Castiel responded, slipping an arm out of his trench coat.

"No thanks. I can wait." Dean answered.

"If you want a shirt, then I insist." Castiel answered, as he pulled off the outer layer of his suit and began loosening his tie.

"Fine then." Dean said reluctantly.

Castiel unbuttoned the last button and handed Dean the white shirt.

Dean slipped into it and buttoned it. He looked Cas and then down at himself.

"We look so fucking weird in these. You especially. I mean, what are you doing over there, Magic Mike?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure I understand your pop culture references." Castiel answered.

"Never mind." Dean muttered towards Castiel, who had his tie draping over his bare chest and rest of his suit on, minus the dress shirt. "This is going to be a long two hours."

"Hey Cas, can you get me a sofa and TV?" Dean asked.

"As you wish, Dean." Castiel replied and a black leather sofa and plasma television appeared on the wall.

Dean flipped to HBO immediately. "Awesome! It's a horror movie Marathon! Mama's up next! Now it's time for you to get some popcorn, hit the lights, and get _your_ ass over here."

Castiel flickered the lights off and microwaved some popcorn instead of using his powers. He joined Dean on the sofa. "Would you like some salt or butter?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Castiel flickered the lights off and microwaved some popcorn instead of using his powers. He joined Dean on the sofa. "Would you like some salt or butter?" _

Castiel glanced at the time on his cell phone. 2:57 it showed brightly in the dark room. He glanced up at the television's scrolling credits and then down at Dean. All that he could really see of the dirty blonde was his messy hair lying on his shoulder. Cas softly smiled and realized that tonight was going to be a replay of last night. He scooped Dean up and bridal style began carrying him to his bed.

A sleepy voice came from Dean. "Why the hell are you carrying me, let alone carrying me like a chick?" Sleepy, but still sarcastic.

"You fell asleep. I was carrying you to your bed." Castiel answered.

"You do realize, that I can sleep on a sofa, right?"

"Oh. My apologies." Cas said as he did a 180 towards the sofa.

Dean was about to speak up, but recalled last night's memories of squeaky bedsprings and a broken back by morning. Castiel put Dean down on the sofa and began to cover dean in a blanket.

"Dude. Stop it. I'm 17. I can put myself to sleep. Tucking me in, really? Don't forget to give me a kiss on the forehead." Dean directed sarcastically.

"Ok." Castiel said as he leaned in towards Dean.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean asked promptly sitting up.

"Giving you a kiss like you asked." Castiel answered confused.

"It was sarcasm. How the hell did you make it through high school? Teenagers are all about drugs, sex, and sarcasm."

Castiel didn't bother responded and walked away towards the other end of the warehouse.

"It'd be nice if this place had AC!" Dean called back.

"Maybe for Christmas." Castiel replied in an attempt at sarcasm

Dean scowled and tore off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

"But seriously, dude. You can not tell me that's it not really hot in here." Dean said.

"It does not affect me." Castiel said blatantly.

"Whatever." Dean muttered and laid back down on the sofa.

As he turned towards the television, the lights began flickering on and off.

"Cas, quit messing with the damn lights. I'm trying to get some sleep here."

"Dean, that's not me." Castiel replied, hastily making his way across the room.

"What do you mean it's not you?" Dean asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"That's another angel coming in, because it can't be a demon." Castiel said.

"Hello, Castiel." Michael said.

"Michael? What are you doing here? Dean, get behind me." Castiel said, gently pulling Dean up.

"Give me Dean Winchester." Michael said.

"No. He is _my_ duty." Castiel responded protectively.

"I'm an arch-angel. I have authority over you. Now give me the boy." Michael said, walking towards Castiel.

"Why should I?"

"God's orders.' Michael said.

"I would've been notified. Quit lying." Castiel replied coldly.

"They'll kill me." Michael said.

"Who'll kill you?" Castiel asked.

"Crowley and the demons." Michael answered. "Unless I give them Dean Winchester."

"Well let them kill you. You'd most surely die if heaven and Hell collide." Castiel said matter-of-factly.

"I'd rather die a soldier, than die at Hell's expense." Michael replied.

"You're no soldier, Michael!" Castiel screamed. "_I_ am a soldier! _I_ am a warrior. _I_ am an angel of the Lord! You are just a coward."

"What did you call me, Castiel?" Michael said quickly pacing towards Dean and Castiel.

"A coward – A scared, lonely, pathetic _coward_." Castiel said angrily.

Michael drew his angel blade and Castiel followed. Castiel's eyes held a blue fire within them as he felt Dean's breathing quicken.

"Dean step back, and no matter what you see, don't let him take you." Castiel instructed.

Dean obeyed and put a good distance between the brothers. Michael took a swing and missed, knocking him slightly off balance. Castiel ducked and took a slice, but only cut the air. Michael jabbed his angel blade down, but Castiel rolled to the side. In seconds, he was back on his feet and slicing and stabbing towards Michael. Michael, grabbed the tie on Castiel's trench coat and Castiel spun back towards Michael and sent his angel blade skidding.

"Cas!" Dean called as he ran towards the angel blade.

"Dean, no!" Castiel screamed as Michael pulled him close and put the angel blade against his throat.

"Are you going to give me Dean painlessly, or will I have to kill you?" Michael asked.

"I'd never give you the child as long as I live." Castiel gritted his teeth.

"Cas!" Dean called and through Castiel the angel blade. He caught it and in under a second had whipped his arm backwards, stabbing Michael in the back and lighting up the room.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Dean mused. "Fitting death, really. He stabs heaven in the back so you stab him in the back.

Castiel slipped out from his grasp. He tossed Dean Michael's knife.

"Just in case you ever need it." Castiel smiled, catching his breath.

"Quite fitting war armor, wouldn't you say?" Dean joked and glanced towards his attire – one sock on his left foot, a popcorn kernel in his hair, and only his plaid boxers on his body.

Castiel smiled bitter sweetly. "It does seem like something you'd wear on a daily basis."

"You're bad at sarcasm. Don't try it often." Dean said in response to Castiel's failed joke. "And I prefer to wear clothes in public." After hearing what he just said, Dean swore. "Shit. Now I'm starting to talk like you, and it's only been two days."

"Just don't try to kill me with that knife. I gave it to you in full trust." Castiel said walking towards Dean.

"Don't worry, man. As long as you're on my side, a badass angel's nothing I want to get rid of." Dean replied with a smile.

"Thanks for saving me out there." Castiel said.

"I believe it was _you_ who saved _my_ ass." Dean corrected. "If it weren't for you, that asshole would've killed me. Thanks, man." And with that, Dean pulled Castiel into a 'man hug', which quickly turned into a normal hug. It took Castiel a few moments to grasp the concept of what was going on, but he figured it out and wrapped his arms around Dean.

"Well thank you, too anyways." Castiel said pulling from the hug. "Get some sleep. You must be exhausted."

Dean nodded and quickly fell asleep on the couch.

After Castiel was sure he was asleep, he looked down and the growing red stain on his shirt. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it to the side. He winced as the sticky blood separated from the wound. It was small, but it was deep. A light glow emanated from the gash.

Castiel took a dishtowel from the bathroom and looked at his wound in the mirror. He lightly breathed on the towel and a light blue mist fell onto it. The rag turned the same color and glowed faintly like the wound. Castiel pressed the rag deeply into his wound and awkwardly walked to the bed. He lied down on the bed and forced himself to sleep, knowing only rest and time would heal his wound. Or he could always ask Dean a favor. He pushed that thought to the recesses of his thoughts and drifted off to slumber.


End file.
